<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dreams of You by Missy1978</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25609921">Dreams of You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy1978/pseuds/Missy1978'>Missy1978</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dreams, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Neighbors, SO MUCH FLUFF, Spooning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:34:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,750</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25609921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy1978/pseuds/Missy1978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor Clegane and Sansa Stark dream about each other every night. What does that mean?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dreams of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Remember when we complained about how cold it was? Yea, me neither. It's hotter than the seven hells here, so why not write about snow?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>He'd always liked the location of his apartment. Top floor, end of the hall, overlooking the street; it was perfect for him. Most people didn't come to the top floor, or the end of the hallway; and, he was high enough up that he didn't usually hear street noise. It wasn't as if he was a hermit, he just liked his privacy. He was always pleasant, well civil, to his neighbors when he encountered them at the mailbox or the elevator; he just never went out of his way to initiate the conversation. He knew he was off-putting, well scary; with his height, build, scowl, well actually his scars. No need to prolong anyone's agony by being forced to look at him, or worse yet, interact with him. Fortunately for his neighbors, he worked nights; when they were getting ready for bed, he was leaving for work, when they were getting ready for work, he was back in his apartment trying to figure out what to make for dinner. This was the way it had been for the past 10 years that he'd lived there, and he thought that's the way it would be for the rest of his life. Then she moved across the hall.</p><p>Early one Saturday morning, as he was frying chicken for dinner, he heard voices outside the apartment door. Looking out his peephole he saw a group of people holding boxes while waiting for a woman with long red hair to unlock the door. Throughout the rest of the day, as he covertly watched, the group brought more and more boxes into the apartment; the rest of the group faded to the background, but <em> she </em> was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He sighed, obviously he had a new neighbor, this was going to be torture.</p><p>Life returned to normal. As a result of his schedule, it would be several weeks before he saw her again. Because he was who he was, he tried to avoid being in the hallway or the elevator when he knew she would be there. No need to traumatize the poor girl. He resisted watching out the peephole, but sometimes, when he heard her leave in the morning for work, he would indulge in just a glance out his window of her walking away on the street below.</p><p>But he didn't need to see her to dream of a whole life with her. Coming home from work in the early morning to their shared apartment, slipping into their bed next to her and pulling her against his chest, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent; the rest of the day would be spent with gentle touches, laughs, kisses; it was so real his heart hurt. He had never imagined a happy life before she moved into the building, and now he couldn't stop himself. </p><p>It would be this way for months. Every night she invaded his dreams. He never had the courage to introduce himself to her, but their perfect life and relationship flourished in his mind. The redhead would offer a shy smile and flush whenever he did see her at the mailbox or in the hallway; but he never initiated a conversation. He just didn't want to be disappointed when she didn't live up to his dreams; better to keep his distance. </p><p>Until</p><p>*****</p><p>She was so happy to move into her own apartment. Of course she loved her family, but it was time for her to strike out on her own. The apartment was exactly what she wanted: top floor, street view, quiet, end of the hallway; she was so lucky it had been available. </p><p>The landlord had warned her about her neighbor across the hall; big, grumpy, scarred. He worked nights, so she probably wouldn't see him all that often. She indulged in watching out her peephole that first weekend, just to get a look at him. From the back he was huge, muscular, with long black hair... not her normal type; but he could be, even later, after she saw his scars. </p><p>She was reading a book one evening a few days later, when she heard his deadbolt unlocking. She leapt to her feet and sprinted to the door. Looking through the peephole she got her first look at his face. The scarring was awful, but didn't hold her attention. He looked up at her door and she saw his silver, no gray, no slate colored eyes. It was as if he knew she was there, by the way his eyes widened and his stare hardened into the door. She quickly stepped back and felt her body flush all over. No one had ever looked at her like that before; even if he wasn't really looking at <em> her </em>, but her door. That night was the first time she dreamed about him.</p><p>It would be this way for months. In her dreams he'd slip into their bed, pull her close and bury his face in her hair. Other nights she'd see his face above hers, his silver, no gray, no slate colored eyes almost black with arousal and they'd make love the entire night. Her dreams were so real that whenever she'd see him in the hallway or by the mailboxes she'd blush in embarrassment. But she never initiated a conversation. She just didn't want to be disappointed when he didn't live up to her dreams; better to keep her distance. </p><p>Until</p><p>*****</p><p>It was going to snow, the media had talked about nothing else for days. But she was from the north, so she chuckled at the panic in everyone's voices, it was just snow after all. She did decide to go to the store; if the city was going to shut down for an undetermined amount of time, maybe she would spend some time baking. She didn't normally have time to do that, but now she would. </p><p>Early in the morning, she walked to the closest grocery store, grabbing one of the few remaining shopping carts, she started down the first aisle. The store was busier then it should be for this time of the day, but she figured it was due to the impending storm. As she worked her way through the store, she noted the lack of stock in some areas. No bread, milk, or eggs; how typical. Hadn't the store manager heard there was a storm coming? She thought with a snort.</p><p>Suddenly, she noticed a large presence in front of her, she flushed remembering the previous evening's x-rated dream that he featured prominently in, it was him. He was fumbling, trying to balance an armful of groceries. Why hadn't he gotten a cart, she wondered. He dropped a can of soup, and it rolled to a stop next to her foot, she stooped to pick it up. Walking towards him, she grinned up at him and placed the can on top of his pile.</p><p>"Here you go; Sandor, right? I'm Sansa, we live in the same building. Do you want to put your stuff in my cart? It's crazy how busy this place is this morning" she concluded breathlessly.</p><p>He blushed, thinking back to some of his more erotic dreams starring her "thanks, yes, Sandor. You live across the hall from me, right?" <em> Which, of course, he knew. </em> Tipping his pile of groceries into Sansa's cart "there weren't any carts or baskets at the entrance, I thought I could carry everything, obviously I was wrong" he finished with a smirk.</p><p>They wandered down the aisles picking up items, each wrapped in their own thoughts about the other one; it was awkward yet comfortable. As many erotic dreams and fantasies as they'd had about each other over the past few months, there was something so right about this inconsequential activity too. When they reached the cashier, they divided their groceries, each packing their own bags, then exiting the store to walk back home.</p><p>"So…" Sansa started.</p><p>"So…" Sandor countered.</p><p>They grinned at each other, then blushed, and looked away. Where did they go from here? They didn't really know each other. Sandor had imagined a whole life that they had together, but it wasn't real. Sansa dreamed about him every night, but until today she'd never spoken a word to him. Suppose they were nothing like the other imagined them to be? It would destroy them, it would be impossible to go back to being only neighbors if they didn't fit together like they did in their dreams.</p><p>Sooner then either one would have liked, they reached their apartment building. They rode the elevator to the top floor and walked down to the end of the hallway. Facing each other in the middle of the hall outside their apartment doors, they shyly looked at each other.</p><p>"Well…" Sansa started.</p><p>"Well…" Sandor countered, then grinned. "Thanks for sharing your cart with me, I'd still be picking up soup cans off the floor if it wasn't for you."</p><p>"Anytime….it's been nice getting to know you a little bit" Sansa responded. She opened her mouth as if to say something else, frowned, then closed it again. She gave him a little wave, turned and went into her apartment, leaving Sandor staring after her in the hallway.</p><p>"What the fuck was that?" Sandor wondered. Shoulders slumped, he unlocked his apartment door and went inside.</p><p>*****</p><p>Sandor sat in his apartment, listlessly channel surfing, half heartedly watching the weather go from flurries to snow to blizzard conditions, and cursing himself for not making more of an effort with Sansa. He'd had the perfect opportunity to get to know her better, and he'd blown it! He could feel the carefully imagined life he desperately wanted to have with Sansa slipping away. </p><p>Suddenly there was a knock at his door. Sandor let out a deep sigh and stood to look out his peephole, he was stunned to see Sansa standing in the hallway. He flung the door open, surprising her, and she stumbled back. Sandor quickly grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. She gasped at the contact. Sandor immediately dropped his hand from her arm, thinking she was probably disgusted by his touch, of course she wouldn't want him to touch her, what was he thinking?</p><p>"Is everything okay, Sansa?"</p><p>"I dream about you every night" she whispered.</p><p>He looked at her stunned "what do you mean?" He managed to croak out.</p><p>Sansa squeezed her eyes shut for a moment then puffed out a breath and opened her eyes and pinned Sandor in place with a look "I dream about you, I dream about <b> <em>us</em> </b>, together, every night. I have since I moved in. We're happy, we're in love. I don't know why, but I just do; and now I'm worried that a dream is all we will ever be if I don't tell you about it" </p><p>Sandor grasped her hand and tugged her into his apartment and to the sofa, pulling her down to sit next to him. "Say that again, you dream about me?" She nodded. "Why would you dream about me? We don't even know each other. Look at me, I'm a big, ugly, scarred monster. Dream about me? You mean you have nightmares about me" He growled.</p><p>Sansa's eyes never left him as he worked himself into a rant. Was that really how he saw himself? She didn't understand how or why this whole situation had happened, but she was sure he wouldn't hurt her, even if she could feel the anger rolling off him. Her dreams weren't wrong, she just knew it. She placed her hand on his shoulder "Sandor, stop" he immediately stopped growling and looked at her in wonder. "Like I said, I don't know why I'm having these dreams, but I think they mean something, don't you?" </p><p>Sandor flushed bright red and nodded "I dream about you too, I have since I saw you the day you moved in, I dream about a perfect life where we're together. How can this be happening? How can we be dreaming the same thing?" </p><p>Sansa looked at him, seriously considering his question, then moved her hand from his shoulder to his face. "I don't know, but if the gods have done so much work to bring us together, don't you think we should try?" Sandor's eyes widened in surprise, and he nodded. Sansa smiled then moved closer and pressed her lips to his.</p><p>Sandor quickly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer and Sansa wound her arms around his neck. Tilting her head, Sansa swiped her tongue against his mouth to beg permission to deepen the kiss, which Sandor enthusiastically allowed. Not breaking the kiss, Sansa crawled into Sandor's lap, bringing herself flush against his chest. Minutes <em> or hours </em> later, Sandor ended the kiss much to Sansa's dismay, but it quickly turned to delight as Sandor kissed his way down her throat. </p><p>"I thought dream Sandor kisses were <em> everything </em>, but they're nothing compared to real Sandor kisses" Sansa whispered breathlessly. </p><p>Sandor growled "I was thinking the same thing about real Sansa kisses"</p><p>"What happens now, Sandor?"</p><p>Sandor sighed "I dunno, honestly all my dreams are x-rated; but if, as you say, the gods want us to be together, we should probably do more than just have sex. We need to get to know each other better"</p><p>Sansa slid off Sandor's lap "I agree, but you have to promise me one thing"</p><p>"Of course, anything. What?"</p><p>"Spooning. It's my favorite part of my dreams, and I bet you'll be an amazing big spoon" Sansa said with a giggle.</p><p>Sandor quirked an eyebrow at her "Well, it's not my <em> favorite </em> part, but I guess we can try it" He flinched when Sansa jokingly elbowed him in the stomach. "Okay, okay it's <em> one </em> of my favorite parts" he conceded. All at once, Sandor heaved himself off the sofa, and tossed Sansa over his shoulder. He jogged down the hallway to the bedroom and dumped Sansa onto his bed.</p><p>Sansa squealed "Sandor, what are you doing? Why are we in here? I thought we agreed that we were going to get to know each other."</p><p>"We are, but we need to make sure we're good spooners. It won't make any sense to get to know each other better if we don't spoon well" Sandor replied with a smirk. "Now lay down on your side, do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?"</p><p>"Sandor…"</p><p>"Shhh, this is an important experiment, big or little?" When Sansa didn't reply, Sandor continued "okay I'll be the big spoon, scoot over" Sansa laughed, and laid down on her side facing away from Sandor. He rolled up a blanket and pushed it against her back.</p><p>"Sandor, what's that for?"</p><p>"Well, we need to keep this G, well probably more like PG rated for now. This should help." Sandor laid down on the bed and scooted closer to Sansa and gingerly draped his arm around her. "How's that?"</p><p>Sansa grabbed his arm and pulled it tighter against her. "That's better"</p><p>Sandor leaned in and buried his nose in Sansa's hair, and almost groaned. If he didn't know better, he would swear he was dreaming again. "So, what do you think? Is it worth getting to know each other better?"</p><p>Sansa sighed "it's definitely worth it, now shut up, I want to take a nap."</p><p>Sandor burst out laughing "okay, but I've dreamed this so many times; I know what's supposed to happen next." He concluded with a growl, tightening his arm around her. </p><p>Sansa chuckled "I've dreamed that dream too, maybe I'm willing to take my chances that you'll be a gentleman."</p><p>Sandor grumbled something about Sansa not playing fair, but agreed; pressing his face into her hair and eventually dropping off to sleep. </p><p>*****</p><p>Years later, after they'd married, moved into a house in the country and filled it with children, dogs, love and laughter; Sansa was <em> finally </em> able to answer the question of how they met without blushing. The first time someone asked them, when Sansa introduced Sandor to her family, Sansa blushed as red as her hair and Sandor barked out a laugh. When pressed by her mother, Sansa squeaked out that they were neighbors. Neither ever confided to anyone about the dreams they'd had about each other. It was enough for them to know that long before they met, the gods or someone, had destined for them to be together.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>